Today, we have Baby Gurr’s birthday party. It is an exciting day. She is celebrating turning two years old. And this year, unlike last year, she has some real people friends coming over. I love parties.

Cooking is a joy of mine that I take joy in enjoying. Especially meat cooking. I own a Big Green Egg, the most awesomest cooking machine ever. Any time I get the opportunity to cook for people, I am all in. So, bbq is what my whole house smells like. If my wife would let me, I would open the back door and let all the glorious smell come in. But, she won’t so I don’t. Unless I cook when she is at work, then I’m in charge!

I cooked about about 40 plus pounds of bbq.

Ya’ll see, cooking pulled pork is a right of passage for bbq chefs. It is definitely not as difficult to cook as people try to make it sound. It’s quite easy as I explain in such an easy manner in this link to Rantings of an Amateur Chef Click Here.

We are having about 20 people over for this shin dig. Sara has been on my ass for about a month to get my damn hair cut and trim my beard. Now, this is how this process works. She starts telling me that my hair/beard is getting long and needs a’cuttin about once every month. Then it turns into every couple weeks, then once a week. Finally, when I get “you need to get your damn hair cut and trim your beard, it’s gross”, everyday I know I gotta get something done quick. I start getting the “I’m not gonna “”snuggle”” with you if you don’t get a haircut” and I know its threat level- For Damn Real!

Last night, I was getting all this bbq done and before Sara went to bed she asked, “are you going to shower tonight”. I say “yes”. Sara- “well you better shave, it’s Audrey’s birthday party.” I trimmed up my beard for my beautiful, wonderful wife and Baby Gurr.
I feel as though I trimmed too much, I am a little bummed. I hope I didn’t hurt the beard too much, I blamed it on Sara.

My wife knows I am not going to cut my beard off, ever. Not never ever. So she tolerates it and me. In return I must tolerate her intoleration, so that she will tolerate in a reciprocal manner.

Like this:

It’s Friday morning, 24 degrees outside and I’m loving it. I do not have to work today, being the best reason for loving this wonderful crisp humid brisk cold ass morning. Literally, I love this shit. Most southerners are mad, angry, pissed, scared, whining, confused, bum-fuddled and/or confused. Not me, I am happy, joyous, comfortable and most importantly not sweating.

I sweat like there is no tomorrow after the the sun has risen on the day in which tomorrow was tomorrow only yesterday. In the sultry summers of South Carolina, I go through socks and T shirts. Not just go through them daily, usually I have to throw away three to four pair a month and buy new, because I sweat death to cotton.

Most people look at my hair and beard and see glorious awesomeness. In the summer time, the question I get asked the most is; “How do you wear that beard in this hear?” Here is a little lesson, that I am going to teach you about how drink machines and air conditioners work. There is a thing called an evaporator. This is what the freon flows through. There are fins surrounding the main line. Air is pushed across the evaporator, creating a cooling effect, which in turns creates cool air.

This is an evaporator.

My beard acts the same way as an evaporator. When sweat fills my face, my beard becomes wet, when I walk or the wind blows, a cooling effect is created. It’s also a great sunblock. None of that smelly ass sunscreen on my face, making me all sticky and shit. Yet another reason why beards are one of the greatest gifts you can ever give yourself. So much awesomeness and usefulness the beard provides.

This is why my heart brakes every time I see someone shave their beard because it’s summer time. These folks just do not know how beneficial that beard can be to them in the heat of the summer. The association between beards and heat retention in the winter time, has made people blind to how great of a cooling mechanism the beard is in the summer.

It’s my dog’s birthday today, Stoney. He is three years old. We have a fun filled day for him planned. A trip to Pet Smart, I might even let him sit in front of the cat adoption window. He will probably go by the guinea pig pen and he can lick the glass.

Today I want to wish my wonderful beautiful wife a Happy 30th birthday! For most people, 30 is a milestone age. This is when you have hopefully entered the world of an adult. You have a job, some money, maybe a husband/wife and/or some churrins. This is also the age that people start calling you old, and they tell you your body will start to break down.

I can not disagree or agree with any of that, because I wouldn’t know, I have a beard. We be diffint.

When my wife’s birthday rolls around, she starts letting me know what she wants a few weeks in advance. By the middle of the second week before the week of her birthday, she reminds me that her birthday is a week long event, not just a day. This is fine by me, I enjoy the joy my wife has when she is enjoying the enjoyment that makes her joyfully happy. Keeping your wife happy is a necessity. In my world of being happy, I am happy when she is happy.

My wife, Sara, never wants an extravagant celebration. Neither does she ever request extravagant gifts. One of the reasons I love her, is because she is not materialistic. But, that makes my job as a gift buyer somewhat difficult. But the great thing about my wife, she will make sure to make room and use the gifts I get her.

For her birthday celebration we are having on Saturday, she requested a cheese fry bar. Imagine your favorite restaurant’s cheese fries. Now imagine that being in buffet style. I’m cooking.